Aria
by AnimeLovingBagpiper
Summary: Russia never sings in front of people. But when he is forced to go against the N.A. songbird, Canada, he's gonig to have to learn to get over his stage fright. A RusCan fanfic, featuring other nations and human names. AU fanfic.
1. Chapter 1: Rest

Chapter 1: Rest

Trying not to nod off to sleep can be very difficult at best. Especially for Russia, who was quite fed up with the high pitched cackling that his "comrade" America called a laugh. More like someone strangling a witch. That, combined with the tight fitting suit, and the stuffiness of the blandly decorated conference room, Ivan found himself dozing off between speeches. The silver haired Russian languidly gazed around the room, seeing if there was anything interesting that could keep him awake.

_Let's see...England messing with a curse book under the table...France trying to flirt with Romano, and Spain is giving him a look of disgust and warning...Germany getting ticked off at Italy eating during a meeting...Japan staying quiet...Poland trying to strike up a conversation with Lichtenstein and getting a death glare from Switzerland. That's new, but not interesting._ _Nothing exciting about America's latest convoluted plots either. Once again, another boring meeting I could have slept in for._

As Russia continued looking about, his violet eyes seemed to be playing tricks on him. Most everything was starting to blur, but one figure seemed to stay relatively in perspective. It had long, curly blond hair, a pair of rectangular glasses, and blue-violet eyes. It looked like America, but it definitely wasn't. For one thing, this person was being quiet. And for another, the hair was more of a soft strawberry hue that outshone the dirty dishwater color of the speaker. But what stood out most about this man was a curl falling in his face, off to the right a bit.

"Russia! Yo commie! Are you even paying attention man?"

Ivan sat bolt upright in surprise, feeling as if he had been woken up in the middle of a math test, and shouted, "The answer is 42!"  
Everyone looked at him, most with a confused look in their eyes, but some with concern. Even Greece, who was usually fast asleep during these meetings, was wide awake and staring at him.

"Well, at least you agree with me on the meaning of life. And the meeting just finished dude. Are you going to leave or do I gotta make ya?"

"What? Oh, sorry."

"Dude, you are seriously whacked. Go get some sleep if your economy is failing."

This exclamation prompted a response from England. "America! That is no way to talk to-"

"What? All I'm saying is-"

"That is impolite! You shouldn't be so uncaring about another's health."

"Like you were about mine last week?"

"Don't get me started-"

_Too late_ Russia thought to himself as he gathered his notes and packed his briefcase. Giving polite nods to those who made eye contact, he made his way out of the conference room and into the lobby. He wasn't surprised that no one wished him good day. But he didn't expect an apology as he was heading outside to hail a taxi.

"I'm very sorry about the way my brother treated you. He can be a real pain sometimes, eh?"

"Da, but it's okay." _Wait a moment. Did I just reply to someone?_

"No, it's not. You shouldn't let him talk to you like that."

"He's all talk, no action. At least now a days."

"I suppose you're right."

"Da, I'm always right. Even in cases that I am wrong, I am right," Russia boasted as he looked to his left, where he thought the voice was coming from.

"I'm over here," the soft voice chuckled. "I guess I don't stand out much if you thought I was over there."

Russia looked to his right and for a moment he thought it was America. But it was the curly haired boy from the meeting that seemed to be coming into focus. _Who is this person?_

"Are you going to the Loews Regency Hotel?"

"Hm? Oh, da. Why? Do you want to share a taxi or something?"

"No. Actually, I have a car parked around the corner. Would you like me to drive you?"

o0O()O0o

Canada had been rather tired of sitting around in a meeting without others noticing him. It could be the fact his brother outdid him in speaking or fighting or even in retreat (_let's face it, when it comes to zombies, retreat is what Alfred can beat me at_). But today seemed different. He hadn't really believed it would be until near the end of the meeting today. He was letting his mind wander as he did when America began to speak. It was all the same musings the energetic man spurted out about heroes and burgers and all other inappropriate and trivial things. But something stood out as he looked around the room and at the faces of all the nations. Deep, violet-red eyes, pale skin, pinkish white scarf wrapped closely around his neck.

_Is it just me, or is Russia actually looking at me? _It wasn't his imagination. The great Ivan Braginski, who was never ignored but usually feared or taken with caution, was looking over at the invisible, never remembered, and always soft spoken Matthew Williams.

"Okay, so now...Russia? Hey Russia!"

America had come to the end of his speech, and obviously was bothered that the Russian had not been paying attention.

"Russia! Yo commie! Are you even paying attention man?"

Canada nearly fell out of his chair at what happened next. Russia sat straight as a post and shouted, "The answer is 42!"

_Is he okay? Russia never does something like that. It's just...out of character._

Ignoring the conversation that followed, Matthew packed up his paperwork and followed the taller nation out of the room. He could still hear Alfred mocking the former communist nation, even if he was completely out of earshot. The pattern had completely molded into his brain. Even though he wasn't responsible for his brother's actions, Canada still felt he should apologize to the older nation for him.

Canada managed to catch up to Russia just as he was leaving the building. It seemed the man had something on his mind. Then again, who didn't these days.

"I'm very sorry about the way my brother treated you. He can be a real pain sometimes, eh?" Canada stuttered.

"Da, but it's okay," Russia replied.

_Did he really just reply? Did he actually notice I was talking to him?_ "No, it's not. You shouldn't let him talk to you like that."

"He's all talk, no action. At least now a days."

"I suppose you're right."

"Da, I'm always right. Even in cases that I am wrong, I am right," Russia boasted. Canada was surprised at how confident Ivan seemed about himself as he looked to the left.

"I'm over here,"Canada chuckled. "I guess I don't stand out much if you thought I was over there." This didn't surprise him at all. It was rare that anyone would even talk to him anyway.

Russia looked to his right and Canada felt a light blush creep up on his face. "Are you going to the Loews Regency Hotel?" he asked the Russian.

"Hm? Oh, da. Why? Do you want to share a taxi or something?"

"No. Actually, I have a car parked around the corner. Would you like me to drive you?" _Yeah, he probably won't want a ride from some nobody._

"...Da, that would be nice, спасибо."

"Pas de problème. Come on, it's this way."

Canada led Russia to the parking lot and over to the small, navy blue BMW. Just as the Canadian was unlocking the doors, Russia dropped the nuke."I'm sorry, but who are you exactly?"

_I suppose I should have expected this. _"I'm Canada, America's brother."

Russia stood there for a moment, a look of intense concentration on his face. "Нет, it doesn't ring a bell."

"I was the person you were staring at during his speech?"

"Oh, that was you? Прости."

"It's okay."

A strong gust of wind sent both men burrowing into their jackets, an unusual chill for this time of year in New York.

"Let's get into the car, da?"

"Oui. Let's."

And with that, Russia got into the passenger seat, and Canada drove the car out of the lot and into the traffic of New York City.

o0O()O0o

Thank you.

I was inspired to write this after watching the Eurovision song Contest on youtube and looking at posts on the Giving In group on facebook. This will be in no way as good as Giving In, but hopefully you will all come to enjoy it.

Here are the translations:

Da: Yes (Russian)

Oui: Yes (French)

спасибо: Thanks

Pas de problème: No problem

Прости: Sorry.

I will try to have the story done...well, when it's done. It's going to be a long wait for the RusCan, though, so hopefully, you don't mind the wait.


	2. Chapter 2: Crescendo

Chapter 2: Crescendo

Russia gazed dully out of the window as the BMW made its way through the busy streets of New York. He still did not understand why the man called "Canada" had been so nice to him. Most nations held him in caution or ran from him in fear. But not this boy. He had the gall to talk to him, even offer him a ride. _Who does that?Who asks someone they only see on official business if they need a lift to their hotel? In fact..._

"How did you know where I was staying?" he asked the driver.

"Hm? Oh, I'm in the room down the hall. I saw you going into your room last night when I was leaving for dinner."

_Down the hall...If I'm in room 5-5, that would put him in the 5-7 to 5-24 range._

"Would you like to listen to some music Russia? I have some CD's we could listen to . Is there something you-"

"Нет, спасибо. Unless you have something in Russian."

"I have a Eurovision collection on my iPod. I'll hook it up."

"Let me. You're driving, it's not safe to multi-task in a car."

"Merci."

_How does one small piece of metals and plastic hold so many songs? _Russia knew a lot about iPods, but the fact that they could hold all those songs still baffled him. As he attached the adapter to the slim red rectangle, he continued to ponder at the Canadian's generosity. _One thing's for sure, he's a lot quieter than his brother._

"Is there a year you enjoyed in particular Russia?" Canada asked.

"A year?"

"Of the Eurovision contest I mean."

"...Even though I did not win, I happened to enjoy 2009."

"Alright. They're sorted by year, with most recent toward the top."

Russia scrolled through the music until he found 2009. It immediately began playing the winning song from that year. It was catchy enough, and the harmony the other guy was making was amazing. _Wait...Another guy? I thought it was girls who were harmonizing in this song. _

Canada had not realized he was singing along, his voice crystal clear and, if Russia was willing to share, rather impressive. It made him wonder what other secrets the blond was hiding. "You sing very well."

"Oh, W-was I singing? I'm sorry. I really like that song..."

"No need to apologize. I think its a nice talent."

_Okay, what is going on? Why am I striking up a conversation with someone I only met a few minutes ago. No, I'm pretty sure I've met him before then, but still!_

"Really? Thank you. Do you sing or play an instrument Russia?"

"Da, I play the balalaika. What about you?"

"I can play a bit of acoustic guitar, and I'm pretty good on the turntables I suppose."

_And a good singer. _"What about singing?"

"Well, I used to sing a lot when I lived as an English territory. England has a really good voice and is amazing at the bass guitar. Do you sing at all Russia?"

"Нет, not at all."

o0O()O0o

As the two of them entered the hotel, Canada felt as if Russia was hiding something. For starters, the suddenness and somewhat...troubled perhaps?...tone in his reply when he asked if the older nation sings made it sound like he did sing,and quite a bit. Also, there was something on the Russian's mind other than nation duties. Something rather...

" Спасибо for the ride back...What was your name again?"

"I'm Matthew Williams, the country of Canada."

"Well then Matvey, thank you for the ride back to the hotel. I owe you one."

"Oh no, you don't have to."

"Da, I insist. You went out of your way to help me. How about I treat you to dinner?"

"Non, you don't have to. Really I-"

"I'll be over to pick you up at 6:30. What room are you in?"

"I'm in 5-22, but-"

"I'll see you at 6:30, no ifs ands or buts.Увидимся позже." And with that, Russia went over to the elevator to the left at a speed even the Road-Runner couldn't match.

_Okay...that was definitely out of he okay? _Canada made his way over to the elevator on the right, his mind full of questions and trying to sort out how he got to this point. He didn't do anything no one else would- No, he offered a ride to Ivan Braginski. No one does that_. Ever._ It was a good thing Alfred wasn't here, otherwise there would be hell to pay. When he wasn't forgetting his brother, Alfred was the most overprotective bastard the world had ever seen. No one could get near Matthew without getting past the good old USofA. It was annoying, but at least that means he cared...sometimes...

The elevator came to a stop on level five just as Canada was starting to get lost in his thought. Checking his watch, he saw it was already 5:15. He only had about an hour to get ready.

"Well, he never said where we were going for dinner. I guess semi-formal would be okay."

Matthew took out his room key and went inside. He didn't have a chance to relax though. There was a slightly irritated growling coming from the bed.

"There you are. Where were you today what's your face?"

"I was at a meeting today, Kumanoko. Are you hungry?"

"Yes...And who are you?

"I'm Canada."

Canada put his case down on the floor, the key on the table, and slipped off his shoes and tie. The polar bear cub followed him over to the mini fridge with a look of contempt in his eyes. The blond man opened the fridge and pulled out some fresh salmon and set it in a dish with some water for his friend. "Should I have a snack too? Or wait until dinner?

"This is tasty!" Kumajiro muttered through the mouthfuls of fish, completely ignoring the man asking for his advice.

"I'll wait until after I've changed. I'm going for a shower now, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, Canada went into the bathroom and quickly stripped down and closed the curtain behind him. The room didn't take long to fill with steam, fogging up the mirror and window. Hot jets of water felt heavily against his skin, the warmth loosening his muscles and relaxing his joints as he ran the maple scented shampoo through his curly hair. As he finished rinsing the suds from his back, he reminded himself to ask the manager where they got their showers. _I'm definitely going to have one of these installed at my place._

It didn't take him long to find what he thought would be a suitable outfit for the evening. A simple button up blue shirt, a charcoal vest, basic slacks, and a pair of nice shoes. His hair was already dry, thanks to the warmer climate of the east coast. By the time he had finished getting dressed, it was 6:10. His "date" would be here in about twenty minutes. _No, not date. A friend. A really...mysterious person. I can use this as a chance to get to know him...Wow, I guess it is a date..._

"You look nice. Where are you going?" came the high pitched moan of the bear. Kumajiro was sitting on the floor next to the bed. The look he gave the man was one of annoyance. He knew he was going to be left alone again.

"Russia invited me to dinner, as a thank you for driving him back here. It'd be rude to decline." _Especially since he wouldn't let me say no._

"You won't be leaving the room tonight. I have decreed it. You stay."

"Oh, Kuma-"

Before the nation could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Since it was still early, Canada thought it was his brother, or maybe France, looking to waste the evening with someone that they would eventually forget to talk to again. Still, it felt nice that he would be able to tell them he couldn't hang out for once. He went over to the door and opened it.

"Matvey! Слава Богу!" Russia ran inside, shoved the door closed, and locked it.

"Are you okay Russia?" he asked the nation.

Russia slid down to the floor, his back to the door, and said as calmly as possible, "Can I stay here for the night?"

o0O()O0o

Thank you.

If the chapters seem really short or really long at times, it's only because I cut off where it feels natural.

Translations:

Слава Богу: Glory to God

Увидимся позже: see you later

Спасибо: Thank you.

Нет: no


	3. Chapter 3: Staccato

Chapter 3: Staccato

"I'll see you at 6:30, no ifs ands or buts. Увидимся позже." And with that, Russia went over to the elevator to the left at a speed even the Road-Runner couldn't match. _Now I can get to know this person better. See what is going on in that head of his that made him be so nice._

Russia went over the plan in his head. Take this man out to dinner and get to know him. See what makes him tick, if he can turn invisible as a kind of "special ability" because, let's face it, he's been just that before today. Invisible.

He leaned against the wall of the elevator as he continued to think. Russia remembered that Canada was the second largest country in the world, the largest of North America. They had a similar climate, and if he correctly recalled, they also faced each other in a hockey tournament recently. If they had that much in common already, why is it the younger nation never made that big of an impression? Or maybe he did, but he kept it to himself , if that makes sense_. No, it doesn't._

As the doors opened on level five, Russia was about to step out of the elevator, but instead, his eyes widened in terror and he found himself pressing the buttons on the panel rapidly in an attempt to get the doors closed.

"Big brother! There you are, come back! I want to talk to you!"

Belarus was waiting right outside his room, and when the intimidating girl saw him, the aura of obsession began to intensify. _Why can't she get a clue?_

"Big brother! Come back!"

The doors managed to close before she could get inside, but just as it was starting to go up, Russia could faintly hear his little sister yelling, "I'll be waiting right here!"

o0O()O0o

"And I somehow managed to avoid her coming here. It took me a while because she wouldn't let up. She didn't "wait" at all. She followed me all over the building. I managed to get away by crawling up the laundry shoot. It was a very tight squeeze."

Russia finished explaining the situation to the confused Canadian, hoping that this would be the first, last, and only time he'd have to request sanctuary from anyone.

"Well, looks like Kumajanga was right. I won't be leaving the room for dinner. I can order room service."

"I'm really sorry Matvey," Russia apologized. The words seem to catch in his throat. He definitely was not going to do this again anytime soon.

"No need to apologize. In fact, this might be the best place to hide for you."

"How so?"

"Well, most of the time, people forget I'm here, so if someone comes looking for you, they won't think to look in my room. And Kuma doesn't mind, do you Kumaji?"

"Get lost bozo," the bear muttered. "Don't like you."

"K-kumakanta! That's not nice."

"It's okay, I'm used to it," Ivan assured his host. "I'm not very well liked."

"No, it is not okay. Kuma, you apologize right now."

The polar bear cub glared at the Russian, his eyes refusing to mask the disdain he held for him. After a moment of silence, he looked to Canada, then back at Russia, and muttered a simple and particularly forced, "Sorry..."

"You are forgiven. It is nice to meet you Kumakanta," Russia mused.

"Kumajiro," the bear grumbled.

"Kumajiro. I'll remember that." Russia stood up from the floor, petting the bear as he did so. It was only then that he realized just how dirty he had gotten. Dust covered his suit, there were rips in his pants, and cobwebs were tangled in his hair. His shoes were losing the shine he had given them and even his socks were now ragged. Belarus had given him a real workout. _What I wouldn't give for a long hot shower and a clean set of clothes._

"You're filthy," the bear growled. "Go get cleaned."

"Would you like to use the shower here Ivan?" the Canadian asked.

"Da, that would be nice..." _But what about my clothes?_

"What's his face can go get your clothes."

Both nations looked at the polar bear in confusion. This was the nicest thing he said to Russia so far. But Russia wasn't sure if that was a good idea. _What if Natalia is in there waiting for me to walk in? Even though I hardly know this person, I don't want Matvey getting hurt._

"Sure, I'll do that. It's room 5-5, oui?"

"I'll be fine in these," Russia said.

"Non, I'll get you something to wear. You go ahead and get clean up."

He wanted to tell him no, but something about the younger nation's naivety stopped him. Russia pulled out his room key, handed it to the shorter man, then made his way into the bathroom the second Canada left.

_The bathrooms are all the same in America. I'm always an inch taller than the shower curtain._

Russia turned on the water. While most people would have to turn the cold dial up a bit, the scalding hot liquid was just enough to warm his joints. It took no time at all to get the dirt and webs cleaned off of him. Just for reassurance, Ivan also used the maple shampoo.

_You know, this would be the best time..._

There it is. It's that little voice in his head that wanted something. It wanted him to sing. There are many things Russia does not do. The one thing he absolutely, under any circumstances, is sing in front of people. It was one of the few things that made him nervous. And if anyone found out he could sing, the ridicule would be unbearable. How could he face another meeting if everyone knew? But no one was here. It might take Canada a while to pick something that isn't too intrusive on the Russian's personal property. It wouldn't hurt to play a tune while warming up.

o0O()O0o

Canada walked down the hall at a fairly slow pace. He wanted to give his companion some time to relax. If Belarus was as persistent as Russia claimed she was, he could understand if the older nation wanted some time alone.

"Canada? Is that you?"

Matthew froze in his tracks. Coming out of room 5-14 was a tall, spiky blond haired man with a blue and white striped scarf wrapped around his neck. Netherlands was dressed to the nines, and his pipe dangled from his fingers lazily, ready to fall at a moments notice.

"Hello Lars. How are you?"

"Eh, could be better. Belgium and Luxi are taking me to dinner. What are you doing?"

"Oh, I have to get some clothes from room 5-5." _Wait, I shouldn't have told him that!_

"Why do you need clothes from that room?"

"I-I'm getting them for Alfred. He's gotten into a bit of a mess and is using my shower." Knowing his brother, America probably is getting into trouble as we speak. And Netherlands, who didn't _forget_ about Canada, but rather kept a "safe distance" from him, knew what it was like trying to clean up after, or needed the help, of a sibling nation. But Lars was not an idiot. If anything, he was one of the smarter nations in the UN. Would he be fooled by this little white lie?

"Ik zie. No need to explain. Siblings can be a pain sometimes, huh? Well, I gotta go. I'm already running late. Tot ziens." And with that, the Dutchman strided away.

_Had I known that was all it took to get away with something, I'd have blamed Al a lot more often. Better get Ivan his clothes. _Canada continued on to Russia's hotel room. As he opened the door, he was not at all prepared for the smell that attacked him.

Cluttered, dark colored, and lopsided bottles of vodka lay in almost every corner of the room. There was a bowl of what Matthew would pray was a kind of soup. There were socks all over the floor, and the bed was a wrinkled mess of satin. There was a foreboding aura of darkness and frost in the air. Canada could almost swear he could hear a voice whispering for his absence. But despite all this, the bespectacled blonde entered the room.

Russia's suitcase was on the bed, opened to whatever elements dared to plague this room. Matthew took out a pair of black jeans, a navy turtleneck, and a clean pair of socks. And just to be on the safe side, he took the pajama bottoms and a tank top from the floor. They actually smelled rather tidy. Checking his watch, he found he had been gone almost ten minutes. _Par pitié, time flies fast. I better hurry back._ Remembering to lock the door behind him, Canada sped back to his room. Nothing seemed different from when he left. Kumajiro was asleep, curled up in a little ball on the end of the bed. The water was running, and there was a lovely voice filling the suite.

_Singing? Is Russia singing?_ Matthew lay the clothes out on the table top and slowly crept into the bathroom. There was no doubt in his mind about where the voice came from. He stood there, quietly, listening to the echoing cord coming from the Russian songbird.

"Мама,

А ты же мне сказала, не ожидай.

Мама, А я тогда не знал, где ж та беда.

Мама, А ты же мне сказала: время - вода,

Мама, мама, мама,

Любовь - беда."

Canada had not realized the song had come to an end. The water had turned off, and the curtain opened to reveal a clean, naked, and slightly pleased Russia. That is, he was pleased, until he realized Canada had heard him singing.

"M-M-Matvey?" Turning a shade of red that could put the flag of the Soviet Union to shame, he closed the curtain, nearly knocking it off of the walls from the force.

o0O()O0o

Thank you.

A special thanks to RusCSI for translating and to Maiya -chan for doing the beta for me. And to everyone on the facebook group for their support. If anyone is willing, I may need anothre translator for later chapters. Just PM me if interested and what language you can translate.

Translations:

Увидимся позже: See you later.

Ik zie: I see (Dutch)

Tot ziens: Goodbye (Dutch)

Oui: Yes (French)

Non: No (French)

Мама,

А ты же мне сказала, не ожидай.

Мама, А я тогда не знал, где ж та беда.

Мама, А ты же мне сказала: время - вода,

Мама, мама, мама,

Любовь – беда.

Mother,  
You told me: "Don't wait".  
Mother,  
I didn't know back then, where the trouble was.  
Mother,  
You said me: "Time is water",  
Mother, mother, mother,  
Love is the trouble.

The song Russia is singing is "Mamo" from the 2009 Eurovision contest. Listen to it. It's great!


	4. Chapter 4: Allegrezza

Chapter 4: Allegrezza

_My life is over. He heard me sing. No one, NO ONE is to hear me sing. I can't risk him telling anyone. He can't know. No one can. Why is he in here anyway? He should be waiting OUTSIDE the bathroom! Not INSIDE while I'm taking a shower! Wait...He spoke French...He must have inherited it from Bonnefoy. A natural pervert. Why did I trust him anyway?_

"I-I'm so sorry Russia. I heard you singing, and...well...I guess there's no excuse for this. I-I'll just leave now and you can get dry. Y-your clothes are on the table. I'm very sorry."

"Постой...You aren't going to tell anyone, are you?" Russia wasn't going to let this man get away with such a dark secret. Overreacting? Some may say that. But Russia had his reasons. And he wasn't about to let someone like Canada get away with it. One wrong step and-

"No, I won't. I didn't tell anyone you were in my suite either. I ran into Lars on the way to get your clothes. He asked me what I was doing and I covered for you. You can trust me."

_Netherlands? He's always kept to himself for the most part. What's he got to do with Matvey? Probably a friend, if such a person exists for him._ "Спасибо..."

"De rien. I'll go order dinner. You can just get dressed. Is there anything you want in particular?"

"Нет. Anything is fine."

"Okay, I'll go order then."

As Canada left the room, Russia felt a bit...reassured. _For now at least_.

o0O()O0o

"Hello. I'd like to order room service. What do you have on the menu tonight?" Matthew asked. Normally, he'd have something in the mini fridge and that would be enough. He'd rarely use the room service at all. It felt rather thrilling to use it, like you're sneaking out for the first time without your parents knowing. Since room service was about to close, Canada ordered the chicken parmesan, a Pepsi, and the largest bottle of vodka. "Merci beaucoup, monsieur."

"Who?" the bear piped up as Canada hung up the phone.

"I'm Canada, and I just ordered room service."

"You have to repeat everything you do?"

Matthew turned around to see his guest, all clean and wearing the clothes that were brought, standing behind him. There was a hint of uneasiness in the room, and Russia held an air of frustration as he walked closer to the shorter blonde.

"N-no, I usually just-"

"Let's get one thing straight, okay?" Russia began, a childish smile growing on his face as he spoke. His tone grew icy. "You heard me sing. I don't like people hearing me sing, or even knowing I have other musical talent besides the balalaika. So I want you to listen very carefully. If you tell anyone that I can sing even "Hey Diddle Diddle" I will snap you in half, rip you to pieces, and all sorts of other lovely things that will make you wish you never offered me a ride back here. Do we have an understanding, кленовый мальчик?"

Canada had been backing away, slightly fearful at what Russia was going to do to Russia finished his threat, Matthew was against the wall, looking up into the red-violets of Ivan's cruel expression. With his face only centimeters from the taller man, Canada's instincts were telling him to run. But he wasn't going to back down. Russia can threaten him all he wants, but when it came to bargaining, no one could beat the quiet cunning of Matthew Williams.

"Really? I don't think you are in a position to threaten me, _Mr. Braginski_."

The childish smile started to fade and Ivan's anger only began to intensify. "Oh, is that so, _Mr. Williams_?"

"Yes, it is. I apologized to you for America, and if word gets around about that, you'll have to deal with his rantings more than you already do. Also, I covered for you so that Belarus can't find you. If I so wanted, I could go to the front counter right now and have them page her and drag her up here to talk to you. I let you use the shower and I've ordered you dinner that will be paid for on my account. _And _I heard you singing. Combine all that and I'd say I have you beaten in the game of blackmail."

They stood there for a while, eyes locked, not letting even the wisp of air pass between them. This was a battle for dominance, a silent war between men, not their nations. Canada was well away of the consequences for such a verbal beating he had given Russia, and that even if it wasn't right away, Ivan would have his vengeance on Matthew.

"Ладно, ты победил. But don't think this means I won't be keeping a close eye on you from now on, Matvey."

"Didn't expect it. Now I would kindly like to request that you back away before I have to headbutt you right in the nose."

Russia grimaced and slowly backed away from the wall, allowing Canada a chance to run. _If he tries to run, I'll take the table leg to his neck._  
o0O()O0o

Thank you.

Wow...re-reading this makes me feel...sadistic? Mean? I'll figure out the word for it.

Translations:

Постой: wait a moment

Спасибо: Thank you

De rien: Nothing (Used in the sense of "It's nothing".)

кленовый мальчик: Maple Boy

Ладно, ты победил: Okay, you win.


	5. Chapter 5: Acceso

Chapter 5: Acceso

Canada moved slowly away from the wall and slowly made his way over to the table. All the while, his eyes and the Russian's glare never broke contact. Russia was wearing the jeans and turtleneck that Canada had picked out, meaning the pajamas were still on the table top. Taking the chance, Canada turned his gaze away and proceeded to fold the clothes and set them on the counter in the bathroom. He could feel the daggers digging into his back as he moved about, cleaning the mess that his "friend" left in the shower and preparing for the dinner about to roll into their battlefield.

"You're very gutsy for a pacifist," Ivan finally said after a moment of silence.

"And you're pretty straightforward for someone who drinks over seven gallons of vodka," Matthew retorted. "And so you know, I ordered you another bottle. Although I don't think you need it."

"You never had to deal with Natalia after a meeting," Ivan grumbled.

"You're right. But you, in turn, have never had to deal with Alfred _before_ a meeting. He rehearses his speeches over the phone with me."

"Who?" came the chirp of the snowy puffball on the bed. He was looking at Canada with innocent curiosity.

"I'm Canada, your owner."

Kumajiro nodded, seemingly understanding what was being said, then turned to look at Russia. "You are a bozo. I don't like you. You're a big meany."

"What brave words for a little cotton ball. Perhaps you and I should have a little chat, da?" Russia said. His childish smile started to come back.

"You lay a finger on him and you'll have to face Belarus and America," Canada warned.

Before Russia could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. Instinctively, the Russian crawled under the bed, having to curl up into fetal position in order to fit completely. Canada thought this was a very silly sight, having to suppress a chuckle as he opened the door. But it wasn't the attendant he had spoken to on the phone with their food, but Lithuania, who was also holding a few papers in his hands. _What is he doing here?_

"Hello. You're Canada, right?" the brunette said kindly, a nervous smile covering his face.

"O-Oui. How are you Lithuania?"

"I'm doing fine. May I come in?"

"Um, sure. I suppose. Here, let me take the cart."

o0O()O0o

Russia was very uncomfortable and very annoyed with the fact that Lithuania was making himself right at home. He'd come out if he could, but he knew that there was a chance Toris would run screaming, or let slip to Poland,who everyone knew was staying in the same room, who in turn would let slip to someone, making its way to Natalia Arlovskaya. No, he'll just wait here.

"Have you checked your e-mail yet?" Lithuania asked.

"No. Why do you ask?" the Canadian inquired.

"Well, my boss just sent me an e-mail. The nations of the world will apparently be competing in a music competition."

"You mean like the Eurovision Song contest?"

"Not quite. The song can be original or a song that was written long before that. The only requirement is that it either be in the languages spoken in that nation, or that they be written by someone who is a citizen of your nation."

"Well, that sounds like it'll be an interesting competition."

_Yeah, yeah, yeah. Nothing but gossip. _Russia thought to himself. _Just leave already Laurinaitis! _

"That's not the most interesting part."

"Really? What do the bosses have in store?"

"They all agreed that we were to participate."

"Wait...You mean we, the nation representatives, the living embodiment of our people's homeland, are to _sing_?"

"Yes. It's what they agreed to. For the first Annual Songs Around The World Competition, you, me, even South Sudan, will be singing."

At that moment, Russia stopped breathing. This couldn't be true. His boss would never allow this. He knew that Ivan refused to sing to anyone except his shower! Not to mention the dangers this poses if the public found out about people like Toris and Matthew. What is this world coming to? There must be a catch.

"But what about the fact that we're supposed to be hidden? No one is supposed to know that we exist."

"The bosses counted on that. That's why we're the first up. No one really remembers the first anymore, and we're usually away from the public eye, so after the second contest everyone will think we were all one hit wonders. I don't really want to sing, but I called my boss and he assured me that I won't have to do it again. Same goes for you and the others."

_And why did you have to come here to tell Matvey at all? Why couldn't you wait for the actual contest to talk, or maybe mind your own business and leave?_

"Thank you for letting me know about this, but why me of all people? I don't mean to sound rude or anything, but-"

"Oh, I saw you earlier today talking to Russia. I thought you could tell him for me. You seem to be good friends with him. I hope you don't mind."

"I'm sure he knows already. But I'll let him know all the same."

"Thank you. It's funny, i'm not under his roof anymore, but I still feel like I work for him. I better go. Poland is probably waiting for me. Enjoy your dinner."

"Merci. You have a good evening."

_Friend? Lithuania saw us and thinks we're friends? How far off he is..._

"You can come out now, Russia. Lithuania is gone."

Waiting another minute to make sure the coast was clear, Russia crawled out from under the bed, bringing his fears and several dust bunnies with him. He brushed himself off and walked over to the table, sitting down cautiously and before he could be stopped, began bashing his head into the wood repeatedly.

o0O()O0o

Poor Russia. I'm tormenting him aren't I?

Translations:

O-oui: Y-yes (French)

And I noticed I forgot a translation from chapter 4:

Merci Beaucoup, monsieur: Thank you very much sir. (French)


	6. Chapter 6: Anacrusis

Chapter 6: Anacrusis

"Russia! Stop it, you'll hurt yourself!"

"Hет! Never! I won't do it!"

Canada tried pulling the table away from him, but Russia held onto it from the underside with the strength of an ox. Canada thought about grabbing a pillow from the bed, hoping to place it between the wood and the forehead of the exasperated Russian, but the speed would be impossible to calculate. With no other option immediately coming to mind, Canada went to the food cart, took the vodka out of the ice bucket, and held it over the sink by the mini fridge shouting, "Ivan Braginski, stop it or the vodka gets thrown down the sink!" As fast as it started, Russia stopped trying to bash his skull open.

_Had I known that dealing with him would be so difficult, I wouldn't have even thought twice about talking to him, much less offer him a ride._ "Look, I don't know what you have against singing, but if this is what the boss orders, you'll have to suck it up and sing. You have a wonderful voice Ivan, and with the right song choice, you could win."

"I don't want to win. I don't want to _sing._ You wouldn't understand if I told you. I'm not singing. Russia will not be competing in this contest."

Canada wanted to argue the point, but he knew it would be useless. Silently, he put the vodka in front of his guest and brought over the pasta. "I hope you like chicken parmesan, because it's all they had available at the last minute."

"I don't mind..."

Matthew placed a plate in front of Russia, sat another one on the opposite side of the table, and sat down without another word. The two of them started their dinner in silence, not daring to make eye contact or strike up conversation. Kumajiro watched them as they finished off their food, a death glare being sent Russia's way every so often.

"Why is your bear glaring at me like that?" Russia finally piped up when they were finished with their pasta.

"Because you're a big fat stupid head and I don't like you," the bear growled.

"Kuma, that isn't nice," Canada stammered.

"But it's true. He's a big ol' blubber butt."

"Проклятый медведь. You should learn to stay quiet."

"And you should learn to stop being a big blubber butt."

o0O()O0o

_Чёрт побери. Why in the name of General Winter did they have to choose this as a means of preventing war? I understand that music is a way to bring people together and what not, but why did they have to use it the solution to the world's problems? And why torment the poor people with America's obnoxious screaming? This won't end well for some people. I know it won't end well for me. _

Russia had decided to sleep on the floor. After all, he had troubled the Canadian enough, so sleeping like a dog curled up on the floor on a makeshift bed of extra sheets and towels didn't bother him at all. What bothered him was that the bear was allowed to sleep on the bed as well as Canada. Didn't he have a carry case or something? And what was so special about this talking bear that threw insults at him willy nilly?

_Let's see...He seems to know Canada really well. And he's a cub. But something in his eyes tells me that Kumajiro is a lot older than a baby. And another thing, he can TALK. Bears don't talk. At least NORMAL bears don't talk. And why would Canada carry him around?...And what's up with Canada anyway? He speaks French and English...If I remember right that has to do with that whole colonization and Age of Exploration thing a majig. He was both an English and French colony at one point...His climate is similar to mine, if not exactly the same...He seems timid but he knows how to get things done and when push comes to shove, he's a little bit intimidating...Maybe there's more to this kid than meets the eye...Great, I just made a reference to American entertainment._

Russia looked around the room and tried to remember anything he could about Canada. This endeavor should be classified as an Olympic Sport. He couldn't remember anything about Canada. At least nothing other than the stereotypes.

_Well then, I will have to change all that..._

o0O()O0o

Canada awoke the next morning to the smell of fresh pancakes and warm maple syrup. There was coffee in the air, a lovely Brazilian roast, and the sound of bacon sizzling the way only it can when placed on an empty plate. He smiled, thinking that it was probably France and-

_Wait, who's cooking? Did Russia hide or did he get caught?_

"Good morning Comrade Matvey!" came the overly chipper Russian accent from the end of the bed. "Did you sleep well?"

"Uh...Oui...I slept just fine...How are you this morning?"

"Better now that I've had a good night's sleep. I ordered you some breakfast, payed for it, and brought it up here myself. Are you hungry?"

"Um...Sure? I guess..."

"Alright. You go get dressed, I'll pour you some coffee. Or would you prefer tea? I can make some for you if you prefer that."

"N-no, coffee will be fine." _What in the name of Dai Vernon is going on here? This is not the grouchy alcoholic I saw before bed. Did he get hit in the head coming up the laundry shoot?_

"Okay, just be a moment. No need to get up. Breakfast in bed, da?"

Canada sat up in the bed and watched as Russia assembled the food onto the plate, pouring the coffee and adding the french vanilla creamer that had been buried in his suitcase. _Wait...He went snooping in my belongings! That, as Gilbert might put it, is not awesome! _But Canada did not bring it up. How could he? Watching Russia waltz about preparing him breakfast in bed with that smile on his face was so heart warming, despite the bad reputation and stereotype that Russia was a bloodthirsty lunatic.

"Here you are," Russia said as he placed the tray carefully on Canada's lap.

"Merci beaucoup, mon ami."

"Пожалуйста. Enjoy. I've got to finish getting my stuff packed up. I'll be back soon to clean up. And Kumajiro's food is one the floor in the dish." Russia gave Kumajiro a quick pat on the head and left the two of them in confusion.

_That is definitely out of character...I better learn more about people before I talk to them from now on. But he went to all this trouble..._  
Matthew stared at his plate for a moment, taking in the smell of the omelette, the scent sending shivers down his spine and covering his body in goose bumps.

"I don't trust that blubber butt. Why did you let him in in the first place?" Kumajiro started complaining, his eyes still fixated on the door.

"We were supposed to go to dinner last night, but Belarus was scaring him to death. I said he could stay and I guess serving breakfast was his way of saying thank you and sorry. You should try to be friends Kuma Noonoo."

"Don't wanna. He's stupid."

"Well, you'll have to start getting along soon."

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm going to ask him to come stay at our house."

"Who?"

"Russia. I'm going to invite Ivan Braginski over to our house. I have a plan."  
o0O()O0o

Russia didn't take long to pack. He didn't take much with him on these trips. Usually he only packed the clothes he would need, a book or something to read he might find enjoyable, and he always remembered to mail off his vodka to the hotel he was staying ahead of time so that he didn't get held up at the airport. He made sure everything was neatly folded and he used a spare plastic bag he had in the draw to separate the clean from the filthy clothes. While he was at it, he made the bed and put all the empty bottles of vodka in the trash.

_Maybe if our bosses say it's okay, I'll invite Matvey over for a while. It would be nice having someone __else in the house and I can see what goes on in that timid little-_

Before his monologuing could go any further, the phone started to ring. This was annoying him greatly. He picked it up and answered in an indifferent tone, "Hello?"

"_Hello Ivan," _came the thick voice of his boss. "_Did you read your e-mail?"_

"I'm well aware of the little music contest, and I'm telling you right now I do not approve. Why can't we blow up people like we usually do when we can't get along? I don't want to sing."

_"__I know you don't. But even though I said it was probably not going to last, they insisted we give it a try. This is why you have to compete in this."_

"Can't we get a stand in?"

_"__No, you know as well as I what kind of problems that would cause. And the other nations would accuse us of cheating."_

"But Madame, I can't go up in front of people."

"_You have to! For the sake of our nation. We're in deep water and this will help in our stability. Please, I'm asking you to do this. Not as a world leader, but as a friend."_

"I'll think about it." And without a second thought or even saying goodbye, Russia hung up the phone.

o0O()O0o

Thank you.

I hope you are all enjoying this. And If possible, please share this with people? I would love for alot of people to read this.

Translations:

Hет: No

Проклятый медведь: Damn bear

Чёрт побери: Dammit

Oui: Yes (french)

Пожалуйста: don't mention it.


	7. Chapter 7: Melisma

Chapter 7: Melisma

Canada wore a smile on his face. The breakfast he had was excellent, heavenly even. The pancakes were fluffed to perfection, the coffee tasted like sun kissed bliss over his tongue. Even the bacon, which he would normally avoid because of his brother, was savory and worth every minute or chewing. He was a little upset that he had eaten it all. With his belly filled with regret at this act, Canada changed into his clothes and packed all of his belongings, making sure nothing was missing.

"I'm hungry," Kumajiro complained.

"Then eat your food Kamaniki. Russia went to all that trouble."

"No. I'm not eating any trouble that troublemaker fixed. I'd rather starve."

"You're so picky. Just eat, otherwise I won't give you a salmon cake on the way home like I always do."

Kumajiro glared at Canada, the same look in his beady black eyes that Russia held in his when the vodka was in danger. It was amusing to Matthew, and he had to work really hard to suppress a giggle as Kumajiro begrudgingly ate everything on his plate. Canada had just made an important discovery. _Salmon cakes is to bear as vodka it to Ivan._

Canada pulled out his laptop and sat down at the table. Taking a look at the e-mail, he found that there was a reply from his boss. He had asked if Russia could come stay for a while, not as a relations thing, but as a friend. Canada read the message aloud so Kumajiro could hear.

"_Matthew, it's alright with me as long as Russia's boss says it's okay. Don't go looking for trouble. _You hear that Kumi? Boss said yes, Russia can stay with us. Won't that be fun?"

"No, it won't...Even if he cooks fine, it won't be fun."

"Well, we'll just have to see if Russia wants to tag along with us back home."

"He won't. Read about what Lith-pit-face was talking about."

"Oh right...the music contest...Maybe he can practice at our house. There's nothing wrong with working with competitors before the actual contest. We still have a few months. And besides, I would like to hear Russia sing more...And I'd like for him to hear me sing from time to time..."

o0O()O0o

Russia had been listening to what Canada was saying on the other side of the door. Hearing the young nation say that he wanted to be _around_ him, that he wasn't showing any fear, made him happy. Someone wanted to be around _him_, Ivan Braginski, the terror of Moscow. The only thing that would make this a deal breaker was that Canada wanted him to sing...But he wanted Russia to listen as well...

"Matvey?" Russia called, knocking on the door.

"Come in Ivan. It's unlocked."

Russia slowly came in, his cases in his hands and his scarf wrapped slightly tighter than normal. He was silently hoping that Canada had not been saying all that just for the sake of saying it.

"I hope you enjoyed the food."

"Oui. It was amazing. And Kumo liked it too."

"That's good...I'm sorry about all the trouble I caused you last night..."

"You don't have to apologize. I understand."

"Well...My plane is going to be here soon...So I guess this is where we part ways..."

"Wait a minute. I was wondering if you'd like to come stay with me for a while."

"You...you really mean it?"

"Of course I do! I can show you around, teach you some french, and all sorts of fun things. And it would be the perfect place to hide from Belarus."

"I don't know Matvey. Are you sure it wouldn't be too much trouble?"

"No, of course not. I want to get to know you better. Maybe be friends. Will you please come stay with me for a while?"

Russia stood there with a confused look on his face. one part of him was saying _Yes! Go to Canada! _while another part was saying _No! We've got responsibilities to take care of at home! _But Russia felt so happy, he ignored the 'no' voice. This was just the chance he had been waiting for to study the Canadian in its natural habitat. An opportunity that may not come again. "I would love to."

"Vraiment? That's great! I just have to check out so whenever you're ready, just let me know."

"Okay. Why don't you give me a moment. I'll go call my boss."

"Alright."

o0O()O0o

"Алло? It's me, Ivan."

Russia had decided to call his boss. He truly wanted to go over to Canada's house. He felt like a giddy little kindergärtner, asking his mom to play with some kids from class at their house for the first time ever. He had never been invited anywhere for anything other than for politics. This was like a real vacation, a real chance to have fun with someone. Everyone avoided him, either because of his size or history or his episodes of being a psychopath, and didn't bother to get to know him.

"_Ivan, don't hang up on me like that. If you weren't in New York right now I'd-"_

"I'm calling to tell you I want to go to Canada."

"_Canada? Why in the name of General Winter would you want to go there?"_

"Matvey invited me. You know, Canada invited me to his house."

"_You want permission for a playdate?"_

"Actually, I'm going to be staying there for a while. I was invited over because someone actually wants to be around me."

"_You have to come home to prepare for the contest Ivan. All of Russia is depending on you."_

"But Madame, I want to go to Canada. I'll go even if you don't want me to."

"_...How about a compromise. You can stay there for two weeks, but you have to participate in the contest. SINGING. Understand?"_

Without a second thought, Russia said, "Make it three and you have a deal."

"_Very well. Three weeks, then you come home to work on your performance."_

"Deal."

o0O()O0o

Canada waited patiently next to the elevator like Russia asked him to. This was really exciting. He had only ever had America, England, or France ever come over to his house and even then it was no fun. Now he was going to have a friend over for the first time ever. What could be better than this? The invisible Matthew and the invincible Ivan friends? _Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself, but I would love to be friends with him. He seems so lonely most of the time. I want to take some of that weight off his shoulders._

Lost in his thoughts, Matthew didn't even notice that someone was talking to him.

"Hey! Yoo hoo! Hey bra! Maple-butt, look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"Hm? Oh...Alfred. Wh-what's wrong?"

"Gawd man! You are so dense. I'm asking if you picked something for the contest!"

"Contest?"

"The Songs Around The World Competition! Da boss says we're competin'! Won't that be perfect! The hero-"

"Alfred, I'm sorry, but I probably shouldn't talk to the competition for a while." Canada didn't truly mean it, but he just wanted to get rid of the annoying rambling that was his brother.

"So true! anyway, I'm just tellin' yoos ta watch ya back."

"You're slipping into the Brooklyn accent again."

"What? Oh, sorry man. Anyway, be careful. Some of those European nations might get cocky and try to take your ideas."

"Like you were a moment ago?"

"No! I-"

"Alfred, aren't you meant to be heading to the music capitol to practice?"

"I almost forgot! Tennessee will kill me if I don't show up for country lessons! See ya!"

_Again, no 'I love you, brother' to be found...is it so hard to ask for a little bit of love from him more __often? I'm always there for him. Why won't he be there for me?_

o0O()O0o

Thank you.

Yeah, I'm having America slip into the accents prominent to where he is. And there will be personified states/capitols if need be. If there is a personified whozee whatzit you want to see, just PM me and I'll see if I can fit it in.

Translations.

Алло: Hello

Vraiment: Really (French)

Just to remind everyone, I will be posting this every seven chapters:

I OWN NOTHING! All characters in this fanfic belong to Hidekaz Himaruya-sama, and any songs within this story are property of their original owners.


	8. Chapter 8: Tempo Rubato

Chapter 8: Tempo Rubato

Russia entered the house as quietly as he could. The ride up was pleasant enough without having any mishaps, but there was still that lingering feeling in the air that something was about to change. But whether it was a good change or a bad one was far from being known. But that didn't immediately matter to him. What he was concerned about was the irritated aura surrounding his maple addicted pal.

"Matvey? Are you feeling okay?" he asked nervously.

"Hm? Oh, yeah... I'm okay...Just a little jetlagged."

_Jetlagged huh? From taking a small plane from New York to Quebec? That's a little hard to believe buddy._ But Russia didn't say anything out loud.

Canada led Russia up to the guest room. It was adequate sized, painted in soft greens and had lovely golden colored curtains. There was even a bathroom for him to use at his own pleasure.

Russia was then left alone to get settled in. Unpacking his clothes and putting them in the drawers, he hummed silently to himself, going over his plans as to learn about the Canadian that so warmly invited him to stay. There were many ideas flying through his calculative mind, many of them good ideas, but a majority of them were a total failure. He decided to go with Plan A: Being "nice" and picking the boy apart through conversation.

o0O()O0o

Russia let out a long sigh as he curled up under the blanket for the night. Dinner didn't go as planned. Sure, he managed to learn the entire French language in a matter of minutes as well as the _entire _history of Canada, and could now _recite _the entire history of Canada, he still hadn't learned what made _Matthew_ tick. The only thing he managed to learn about this _person_ was that if yo get him started on a particular topic, he can ramble on and on and on for _hours _at a time. _How much can one person talk about HISTORY? Забавно! How am I supposed to learn about this person that is Matthew Williams? On and on its "Quebec was instituted" this and "Montreal became" that and it WOULD NOT STOP!_

Ivan stared up at the ceiling for a while, trying to figure out if Canada said _anything_ that could give him something to bring up when they talked later. Then it hit him.

"_I remember some of the scuffles I ended up in during the War of 1812. Alfred and Arthur were at it again and Francis was...Well, I guess that's just how things go..."_

Canada seemed to get a little down talking about the actual _people_ America, England, and France. _He's okay with the history, but the actual relatives...Maybe I should try to steer clear of that angle right now._

And thus, Russia began to plan what he called Phase 2: Copy Cat.

o0O()O0o

Russia woke up bright and early the next day. He remembered Canada said he always went for a morning jog on Mondays, so Russia had gotten ready to go with him.

"Vraiment? Are you sure Russia? It's a pretty long route."

"Da, I really want to. It'll be a nice chance to talk and stuff like that, right?"

"Well, alright. But if you start getting tired, let me know okay?"

"Don't worry, I do this all the time," he lied. _I actually lift weights and some aerobics, but I never do jogging at home. How bad can it be?_

But Russia found it harder to keep up and talk with his host than he thought it would be. It didn't take long for Canada to get ahead of him, and Russia found it was a lot harder to breath now. _Biggest mistake I ever made...Definitely the biggest..._

"You sure you're okay Russia?"

"Da! I'm just fine!"

"Really? No offense but you run like Alfred! Can't you go faster, or are you too chicken to race me?" Canada teased.

_A challenge? He dares to challenge Ivan Braginski by comparing him to the fast food junkie that is America? I'll show him!_  
Russia took a deep breath, gathered his focus, and set his goal_._ There was only one thing important at this very moment. _Beat the Canadian. Beat the Canadian. Beat the Canadian. Beat the-_

"Канадца!"

"Erable?"

Russia sped past Canada faster than a Formula 1 cart, leaving the poor blonde spinning in a circle from confusion as he continued around the block, up the nearest hill, and back. But when he came back, he was limping, struggling to breath, and his head felt like it was beaten to smithereens by his own pipe. _Okay...Time for Plan C:...Do whatever the hell he wants..._

o0O()O0o

The next day, Russia awoke to the smell of freshly cooked kasha. The aroma filled his mouth with saliva, the very thought of it across his tongue made him float across the floor in his pajamas. As he made his way to the bottom of the stairs, he could make out the tantalizing smell of hazelnut creamer and the fried up turkey bacon. It was enough to make anyone feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But what made him go cold again was the fact that Canada was nowhere to be found.

"Matvey! Where are you? Did you make breakfast?"

Russia sat down to eat before it grew cold. There was a pink post-it note on his coffee mug, with a message from Canada on it.

"Dear Russia, my brother came over around 5am, wanting to hang out here. I know you and him don't get along very well, so I'm taking him out and about for a while. I'll be home later. I'm very sorry. Love Canada."

Russia reread the note several times while he ate. Here he was, on day three of his visit to Canada and he had no Canada to hang out with. _What am I supposed to do now?_

o0O()O0o

Thank you for being patient. I've been really busy as of late with some other projects and family stuff and...well...you know how it goes right?

Translations

Vraiment?: Really?

Забавно: Seriously (I think...^J^;)

Канадца: Canadian

Erable: Maple


End file.
